


Down Time

by nicoleiacross



Series: FFXV One Shots and Requests [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Gen, M/M, Mild Angst, Not Beta Read, could be canon but not canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-14 11:56:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14135562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicoleiacross/pseuds/nicoleiacross
Summary: Ignis keeps an eye on everyone but himself; luckily, the other three do.♥Short birthday fic for m'roommate \o/ plotless fluff with sprinkles of angst because i'm apparently incapable of Pure Fluff;;;;;(Mild language, takes place after Episode: Gladio, but not really canon compliant. Mostly just references stuff that happened in canon)





	Down Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Skerry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skerry/gifts).



> *happily wraps self up in gladnis fic* ;u;

The first one to notice something amiss is Prompto.

The circumstances in _which_ he realises this, is probably the weirdest part. He's used to getting up early. Some days he just couldn't sleep, other days he just wanted to be up to go running so there was breakfast when he got back, and other days, still, he just… kind of woke up. That wasn't unusual. Untangling himself from Noctis wasn't unusual anymore than the disgruntled mumbles and sleepy, slurred protests before Noctis gave up and just tugged all of the blankets to himself. 

Totally normal morning for Prompto, regardless of what time he gets up.

What _isn't_ normal is that he's the _first_ one up. The very first one. Gladio tends not to wake up early when they stay in a hotel, which makes sense. But, Ignis? Prompto's _never_ managed to beat Ignis at the waking up thing. Then again, everyone has days they're off, right? So, that had to, logically, apply to the royal adviser, as well… right? Maybe he just had a late night. Later than usual. Or something…

Prompto shakes the thoughts off and heads into the kitchen. If he's the first one up, the least he can do is get coffee started. He's helped Ignis enough times to at least know how to do that without the man making small faces when the coffee isn't _just_ right. 

The concerning part is that the coffee brews before Ignis appears. Honestly, Prompto had been expecting him to show up halfway to start breakfast or at least ask Prompto a million questions to confirm the coffee was prepared properly. He might be a little worried now; worried enough that, when he rummages through the cabinets with their dishes, he's only half paying attention to which mug he grabs. He doesn't even realise he has Gladio's until after he's poured the coffee and makes a tiny face.

Gladio's not as picky as Ignis about Prompto or Noctis occasionally taking his mug by accident, but still… he'd rather not. But, he's already poured the coffee and it seemed kind of dumb to pour it in a different mug when he could just drink it and wash the cup himself.

Prompto's on his second cup of coffee—drinking from his mug, now; Gladio's safely back in the cabinet with no one the wiser to the mistake—when Ignis finally enters the tiny hotel kitchen. He hasn't styled his hair yet—alarming, but not too uncommon as it used to be; Prompto's a little more accustomed to seeing it than he was, say, a few months ago—and he only just barely offers Prompto a still half-asleep, halfhearted ' _good morning_ ' and ' _thank you_ ' when he spots the coffee. Prompto hums a short affirmative, his attention on downing the last mouthful of coffee.

Or, his attention should be on the last mouthful of coffee; but, almost right as he's trying to swallow his drink, the cabinet door slams shut and he nearly chokes when he jumps. 

He manages not to—somehow—and just coughs a couple of times, trying to correct the coffee going down the wrong pipe and barely manages to raises his eyes in some vain attempt of questioning regard.

"Iggy—what the _actual_ Hell—what's wrong?" His words are broken up by his coughing, but he still manages to ask and can only watch as the older man starts going through all of the cabinets, clearly panicked and upset. But, Prompto has absolutely no idea what's going on and, therefore, no idea how the hell he's supposed to help.

It really doesn't help that Ignis doesn't seem to hear him, either. He's soon back at the first cabinet and the panic almost immediately evaporates as he pulls his mug down, both hands wrapped rather securely around it as he shuffles towards the pot of coffee. A slow exhale seems to make the change complete, as his outward appearance quite visibly shifts from panic to contentment to, very quickly, agitation when he realises he doesn't have the creamer and sugar out yet.

Prompto blinks—once, twice, thrice; slow and only becoming more confused with each passing second—before he finally leaves as quietly as possible to go wake Noctis up. He should probably get Gladio, but… last time Prompto tried to wake Gladio up, he nearly got an elbow in the face. Accidental and kind of his own fault for thinking it was smart to startle the shield from his sleep, especially knowing that Gladio wakes up the fastest when a threat registers in the middle of the night; but, he's not willing to try again. So, Noctis is a safer bet. If nothing else, Noctis can get answers just as easily as Gladio, simply by asking and making it a 'concern of the crown' instead of 'concern of a friend'. 

Kind of a low blow, admittedly; but, sometimes, that was the only way to get Ignis to admit anything was bothering him.

As predicted, Noctis absolutely _does not_ make it easy to wake him up. It takes Prompto a solid fifteen minutes—five of which he spends just wrestling his boyfriend from the sheets and blankets—before Noctis even _kind of_ tries some form of verbal communications that aren't annoyed grumbles and agitated hissing noises that sound suspiciously like the cat they tried to sneak into his apartment their first year of high school. Regardless, Noctis finally manages to open one eye and glowers for a short second before he finally manages to open both eyes, expression softening to worry as he's trying to rub the sleep from his eyes.

"Prom, wha—" A yawn cuts the words off; but, it doesn't distract him the way it normally does. "What's wrong, what's going on?"

"Somethin's wrong with Specs."

Noctis just stares at him for a long minute, like the words aren't really processing before he finally frowns. "Specs? What do you mean something's wrong, what happened—?"

"That's just it, I dunno." Okay, Prompto _probably_ should've tried to figure a bit more out before getting Noctis but… he doesn't know Ignis as well as Noctis and there was only so much he could figure out from observations. What he _does_ know, however, is that Ignis is way off his game. Besides, Prompto already tried asking and had been ignored. "I made coffee and then he was like freaking out and then he chilled out and then… dude, I don't know, just go look. You'll see what I mean."

This is probably one of the few times Prompto's ever seen Noctis get out of bed without more protesting. There's a few seconds of unsteady swaying the second he stands up—like he's still not awake but he's determined to get to the bottom of the mystery—and he walks down the short hall between room and kitchen with a hand on the wall. Prompto follows close at his heel and leans around him so they can both peek into the kitchen—

Well. Prompto does. Noctis takes one look in the kitchen, swears, and immediately heads for the other room to, Prompto assumes, get Gladio. Well, Noctis is better at dodging, anyways. So, he's definitely safer for the job. Prompto just turns his attention back into the kitchen, confused. Ignis is at the table, nursing a cup of coffee. It's a little weird to see him sitting at the table for this instead of just leaning on the counter, but not really abnormal. If anything _is_ abnormal, it's the fact he hasn't started on breakfast yet, but was that really enough for Noctis to warrant getting Gladio _right away_ instead of just asking what was going on?

Thankfully, he doesn't have to wonder for too long. He hears the second bedroom door close and looks over his shoulder just in time to see Gladio carding a hand back through his hair as he heads down the small hallway. Noctis is right at his heel, but stops next to Prompto outside of the kitchen and starts tugging on his arm, one finger to his lips. Prompto blinks, but follows the tugging and keeps quiet as he does. They don't go too far; just far enough they aren't in immediate view of the kitchen. Still close enough to eavesdrop, though.

  
♥  
Gladio watches his boyfriend closely as he continues to nurse the cup of coffee and lets out a slow breath as he leans on a nearby counter, arms crossed lightly across his stomach.

"So… reason y'didn't wake me up?"

"I was coming back to do so." Ignis murmurs into his cup, just before he tilts it. Not far, just enough to sip his coffee, if Gladio had to guess. Even when he levels the cup back to an upright position, he keeps it close, both hands wrapped around the mug. 

On anyone else, Gladio might consider that normal. Might consider that it's too early for them to functionally or safely hold a cup with one hand, but he knows better. He knows what to look for and, sure enough, when he does glance just that little bit closer, there's a small tremble in Ignis' hands. Hard to notice, with the way his right hand rests over the left, with the way his fingers curl tight around the cup. But, just enough. 

Barely holding in a sigh, Gladio pushes off from the counter, careful to announce his presence by tapping on the table when he's close enough and waits for Ignis to look up before he puts his own hand over the top of the cup, gripping it lightly. Not enough to pry it loose, but enough he can hold it up, to get it away, when he makes a simple request.

"Hands on the table, Iggy. Just for a second."

Ignis blinks at him, uncertainly; but, after a moment, he does, slowly, comply to the request. Confusion is rather evident but, he does release the mug and lies his hands flat against the table, palms down and patient, waiting for an indication of why he's being given orders this early in the morning. Especially orders that aren't really relevant to anything immediate. Gladio sets the coffee mug well out of his reach and leans his hip against the table, holding the look easily and repeating his first question.

"Why didn't you wake me up?"

Confusion is starting to level out to annoyance, this time accompanied by a short grumble as Ignis moves to stand. "Honestly, if you're going to be an absolute toddler about this, you can start setting your own damn alarm—"

"That wasn't the question, Igs, and you know it." Gladio moves the mug further back, mindful to ensure it doesn't end up too close to the edge of the table. "I'll give it back as soon as you answer. You haven't been up _that_ long, you didn't wake me up, you haven't even _started_ on breakfast, and Prompto woke Noct up. Do you even know what time it is, Igs?"

To that, Ignis has nothing to add. He's still standing, but hasn't moved from where he's rather clearly leaning against the table. The tremble in his hands is more noticeable without anything occupying them and, up this close, Gladio can tell he's a few shades paler than he should be. Paler, but still flushed in the face and Gladio taps the table again to get the attention back. He waits until Ignis glances up to raise his hand. "I can't help if you don't tell me what's wrong, Iggy. Are you going to hold still so I can actually check your temperature or do I have to get Noct involved, too?"

Ignis immediately scowls, realisation that he's cornered setting in rather immediately and he looks over his shoulder towards the hall. Gladio raises his eyes a bit to follow the look when he hears a small protest; he's not sure which it was, but he'd put money on Prompto. They were probably still close enough to snoop; Noctis may know what to expect when Ignis gets like this, but Prompto… now that Gladio really considers it, Prompto's never had to deal with any of them sick.

He's never had to deal with the mopey spells of insomnia when Noctis is sick; the irony of having to drug him to get him to sleep for once instead of the way he can normally just pass out anywhere.

He's never had to deal with Gladio's inability to _move_ when he was sick. Health-conscious as he is, when he does get sick, Gladio's completely out of commission. He's lucky if he can turn over in his sleep and has to sleep on his side just to make sure he has leverage to roll that little extra bit to reach the waste bin by the bed if it's a flu-like sickness. That hasn't happened in a couple of years; usually it's just a sore body and inability to stay warm. 

And Ignis…

Ignis finally gives a short nod and sighs, leaning forward a bit so Gladio can press the back of his hand to his forehead.

Ignis is probably the absolute worse to deal with when he's sick because he's so damn _stubborn_. Gladio didn't have much room to talk, generally, when it came to being stubborn. But he at least knew that he was a liability when he was sick. Ignis, when they were particularly unlucky, was an absolute nightmare to deal with if they didn't catch it fast enough. What could just be a passing cold would turn into a full-blown, bed-bound illness because the man simply wouldn't entertain the idea of taking a few days or even just a few hours to try letting his body heal on its own. And, as Gladio carefully moves his hand down so he can press two fingers to the pulse in Ignis' neck, he finds himself impossibly relieved that they _might_ have actually caught it early enough.

He's burning up something terrible; but, his pulse is still steady if not a little erratic with his irritation and the realisation that he's been caught. He's not nearly as clammy as he could be and Gladio hums a short note as he finally pulls his hand away and slides the mug back towards Ignis.

"See? That wasn't so terrible, was it?" He keeps his tone gentle and lets his arms cross again, watching closely as Ignis immediately falls back into his chair and pulls his mug close once more. One of his small tics, like a safety blanket. He probably shouldn't encourage the man drinking coffee, but… it'd probably be harder to deal with him if he went back on his promise of giving the mug back.

There's a short, rather tense stretch of silence as Ignis finishes his coffee. As soon as he sets the mug back on the table he glances up as best he can without raising his head. "I suppose you lot are going to be insisting I stay in bed."

"Really rather not risk you hurting yourself trying to cook or anything, Igs." Gladio reaches over, gently cupping Ignis' face, coaxing him to look up, and rubbing his thumb along the cheekbone. Still warm. Unsettling, but nothing threatening. The fact Ignis leans into the gesture is enough to pull a small smile from Gladio, at least. "We've got enough to stay for a couple of days and let you get bed rest. Take 'em. The other two won't mind and we can take a few hunts to make sure the funds stay nice and cushy. Okay? But you _have_ to promise you'll stay in bed."

Ignis looks ready to protest—Gladio's not sure which part—but it never leaves his lips as Noctis leans in.

"Prom and I can go. There's plenty of daytime hunts, close enough we can just go by bird instead of taking the Regalia." Noctis looks a lot more awake than he did when he came to get Gladio and, given the way he looks between the two of them, he's not going to settle for a no this time. "So… Gladio can actually make _sure_ you're resting like you're supposed to be."

Prompto leans into the kitchen—doesn't quite come in, but leans in just enough that he can nod in agreement, though he looks a bit uncertain. Like he's really not sure he's allowed to have a say in the matter, but he doesn't back down when Ignis turns a mildly annoyed look at him. "There's the real easy one from Vyv, Takka's got one out this way, and Noct ran into Dave a few days ago about some fishing spot in the area. There's plenty to keep us busy and keep the coin comin', so… a few days extra of layin' low isn't gonna hurt anyone. Besides, there's always jobs at the plant if you don't want us to leave the city. Point was, the Empire's cleared out of this area for now. Me an' Noct can handle it."

Honestly, Gladio's not too thrilled by the idea of letting the younger pair out of his sight; no more than he normally is, but less so because he knows he can't feasibly keep an eye on them _and_ expect Ignis not to work himself into a bigger knot of anxiety if they make him stay in the hotel alone. Ignis, in that time, looks over all three of them, before his attention finally falls slowly on Noctis. His lips are pressed in a thin line as he releases a slow, calming breath through his nose.

"Is this a suggestion? Or an order?"

Noctis doesn't break eye contact, doesn't flinch the way he normally does when the crown is turned on him. "I don't _want_ it to be an order, but I'll make it one if I _have_ to."

A moment longer and Ignis finally nods. "Then… I suppose I should heed your suggestions. I cannot rightly expect you lot to humour any of mine, if I cannot do the same, I suppose. That said, I would like it known and on record that I am very much _not_ amused by this tactic and would kindly ask you _not_ employ it ever again."

"Don't give us a reason to and we won't." Noctis shrugs, not missing a single beat, before he turns and gives Prompto a gentle shove back towards their room. "C'mon, Blondie. We need to hit the market before we go slice and dice stuff for Takka. Trust you two can have a list by the time we both get a shower?"

Gladio gives a small snort of amusement by the implication those two can ever get a shower without getting distracted; but, he still calls a short affirmative after the pair before turning back to Ignis, his expression softening a bit.

"You know he's doing this because he's worried, Igs. Don't be mad at them."

"I don't believe you're in any position to tell me not to be mad at him." Ignis grumbles, pushing his glasses out of the way to rub at his eyes and sigh an annoyed note. "I suppose I'll be returning to bed, posthaste… though I'm uncertain I trust those two shopping in the fresh market without supervision…"

"Iris showed them around when we first got to Lestallum and Prompto's been watchin' you a lot closer than you give him credit for." Gladio points out. He tries not to let the first bit get to him—he knows he deserved that; the thing with Ravus, the thing with Titan, just _running off_ like that after they made sure Iris was safe… Gladio _really_ isn't in any place to talk. He could have handled it better— _should_ have handled it better. But, he didn't, that's in the past, this is right now. And right now, he needs to get Ignis back in bed before something worse than a few snarky remarks happens.

Gladio and Noctis get into fights fairly regularly. That was… mostly inevitable. Old wounds that never quite healed proper; but, when it came down to it, at the end of the day they had each others back. Noctis knew that. Prompto knew that. He may not have ever seen them at their _worst_ —and Six forbid he ever should—but they all know that, when all's said and done, Gladio would sooner die than let anything happen to any of them. 

What the other two don't know—well. What _Prompto_ doesn't know, is that Ignis has absolutely no filter when he gets like this. Noctis might know, to some extent. He's been around when Ignis has been sick before; but, most everyone made a point to keep Noctis as far away as possible when anyone was sick. His health had been weaker as a kid and that was the last time Ignis had _really_ been sick, so Noctis hadn't seen the extent of just how aggressive Ignis could get before the fever really set in. 

Aggressive might have been a bit strong; but, he isn't nearly as tactful as he usually is, when he first finally started coming to terms with the fact he was sick. He started lashing out at people—unintentional and no real idea that the remarks that escaped were more biting, more curt than anything else he could have said. That was one of his skills, after all; words as a weapon. A very sharp, dangerous weapon, that he had very little control over at the moment. And the last thing Gladio needs right now is that weapon being turned on Noctis or Prompto. He may not want to hear it himself; but, he at least knows things will get better. That Ignis will apologise in earnest once has a few hours to simmer and actually take everything in. 

Or, Hell. Even if he doesn't _quite_ apologise, that's fine, too. Gladio knows he deserved that and, honestly, he feels a little bit better knowing that Ignis is still enough to rein him in. That he's still lucid enough, fever aside, to be the adviser. To be the voice of reason that they all need, even if he is a little less gentle about it than he normally is. Nothing Gladio can't handle; but, nothing he wants to test on the other two, either.

Thankfully, they went shopping pretty recently and, as Gladio's looking through the cabinets, he realises Ignis already knew he was coming down with something. There's a lot of liquids—more than usual, anyways. Broths, mostly—stock base and spices that Ignis doesn't normally keep an over abundance of. A bit more medicine than they normally have on hand. Things easy for an upset stomach to settle. So, nothing too outstanding to send the disaster pair shopping for, thanks the Six. Though that does raise a whole new crop of interested questions. Questions Gladio keeps to himself for the time in favour of making sure Ignis heads back to their room, watching for a few long minutes—until he hears the shower cut off—to make sure he actually does stay in bed. There's quite a bit of unamused grumbling coming from the bunched up mound of blankets; but, nothing he hadn't been expecting. 

Satisfied, Gladio heads back out to the kitchen to clean up the few dishes from the morning. Just the coffee pot and Ignis' mug. First things first… tea. Probably something soft and light to try absorbing the coffee he's already gone through. The kettle starts to whistle just as Noctis and Prompto re-enter the kitchen, clearly looking around to make sure their strategist isn't present. Gladio's kind of expecting to be asked for the list; but, Prompto beats Noctis to speaking and looks to be doing his absolute best not to bounce in place. He fails that part kind of spectacularly.

"Specs is gonna be okay, right, 'cuz like… all of us were out in the rain, why's he the only one that got sick, it was just from that, right? Like, he's not dying or anything, he's totally fine—"

As he's pouring the steaming water into Ignis' mug, Gladio turns a look on Prompto, who immediately snaps his mouth shut and stops bouncing. His expression immediately becomes a touch sheepish and, next to him, Noctis has his face in one hand in an exasperated gesture.

"Sorry… I told him how weird it is for Specs to be the one that got sick. Normally, it's me."

"Can say that again. Iggy told me about that little run around of yours with the Dragoon that kicked your ass." Gladio quirks a brow with a tiny smirk when the words get him the expected scowl. "Chill out, Noct. He already explained Highwind's situation and that whole mess. Ain't worried about that and you shouldn't be worried about this. I can handle Iggy, no problem. And, no, Prom, Iggy's not dying. There's a reason we have to get Noct involved in intervention sometimes and, if I had to guess, we just missed it this time. But, we caught it plenty early. He'll be fine in a few days. He just needs to relax and let his system handle it."

Noctis nods in agreement, his tone deadpanning when he speaks up again. "Can't really blame him since one retainer kind of fucked off for a while and came back with a huge ass scar to show for it."

Gladio shrugs, making absolutely no move to avoid the pointed look or cover the still tender mark going down his chest. "Well, luckily, we don't have to worry about Igs or Prom spontaneously deciding they need to go on some soul searching journey. Now get going, both of you. Iggy already knew he was getting sick; we've got pretty much everything on hand. No point risking you two getting sick by having you hang around longer than necessary. I don't think Iggy'll be getting out of bed; but, better safe than sorry. Try to stay out of as much trouble as you can?"

Noctis snorts a little as they walk by; Prompto elbows him in the side, but looks just as guilty. Those two staying out of trouble is… definitely asking a lot. Maybe he should call Cor or Monica or _someone_ to come keep an eye on them… but, just as quickly, he shakes the thought off. Noctis is, technically, the king and Prompto's just as much a retainer as Ignis or himself. They can't spend forever being babysat by any of the other Crownsguard members, especially with how few there are left.

As he's waiting for the tea, he sets about making something Ignis will hopefully be able to stomach. Nothing too fancy; just that weirdly helpful broth he makes when the rest of them get sick. Gladio had watched the last time—about a year ago, now, when Iris had fallen sick after a particularly bad storm that nearly lasted a week—and committed it to memory specifically for a scenario like this. Not that he'd ever hope for anything like this, but it was mostly inevitable. One of them was going to get sick. There was no avoiding it, not with how much they were traveling and the weird hours the spent out in the field. The hunts that could only be done at night, the lingering effects of fighting some creatures and daemons. The terrain and environments some of the hunts took them into, especially around the Vesperpool. That had been hard on Prompto—the shock of change from the heat of Lestallum to the horrible humidity around the Vesperpool—and Gladio's still surprised none of them have actually gotten sick before now. 

Noctis is tired a lot, sure; but, he's been using more of his magic and every Royal Arm and Astral seems to have their own adverse effects, for how helpful they're supposed to be. 

Prompto has his stomach issues; but, they're never in short supply for medicine and someone's always looking out to make sure they don't accidentally run out of the medicine. 

Gladio had been expecting at least a minor infection from either of his new scars or even just traveling down into the excavation site that had been the Trial Grounds. He's still more than a little surprised that he's only a bit sore from the aftermath. 

Even so, the more he thinks about it, as he's carefully ladling the broth into a bowl, the more it makes sense that Ignis would be the first one to fall ill. He spends all of his time trying to monitor everyone else down to the smallest detail and it usually takes all three of them to get him to relax and take time for himself, even for a few minutes. Well… all three of them in that Prompto and Noctis find ways to entertain themselves in a known _safe_ place, while Gladio distracts Ignis. But, for that work, all three of them were necessary. Gladio wasn't around to help, wasn't around to monitor him the way he normally does; and, being short a retainer was probably stressful for everyone. Noctis didn't look bothered—didn't have a reason to; he'd already admitted as much. He knew Gladio would return, it was just a matter of holding out until then. Prompto seemed to handle the absence pretty well from what he's been told. A bit more anxious during battle, but more alert, more attentive, and overall fine. 

Ignis, fine though he may have been, was likely more worried than the other two put together. Shield and Sword. Prompto was his own presence and helpful in his own ways; but ways that came from being someone that hadn't grown up in the formula the rest of them had. Helpful in the way he could spot things they couldn't—Ignis and Gladio have heard the prophecy hundreds of times, been drilled on it since they could walk. The old children's rhyme Ardyn recited at the overlook hadn't been anything outstanding to them; it was something they'd heard so often it was just constantly in the back of their minds. Prompto was the one that thought to question any of it. That made them question it. 

Prompto was a presence on his own and that was fine. It was something they rather obviously needed and both of them have long come to terms with that. Even so, there were expectations. Especially with things as muddled as they are, with no clear line to take back the crown city. They would, there was no doubt of that. Sooner or later, Insomnia would be taken back from the Empire. Until then, everyone had a role. Sword and Shield. And Gladio had run off. It really isn't all that surprising that Ignis was probably stressed enough to work himself into the state he's in, especially when the weather gets taken into account.

For better or worse, that's what sticks in his mind as he's heading down the hall back to their room. As worried as he is, this is _kind of_ his fault and he knows that. Just like he knows he's about the only person that's going to be able to get close enough to try fixing this any. At least, close enough and not lose an eye or a limb.

Thankfully, when he manages to get the door open—bowl and mug and a small assortment of medicine balanced on a tray on one arm, free hand rapping gently against the door frame to announce his presence—he's welcomed by the sight of Ignis still wrapped up in the blankets he left him in. There's still some kind of knowledge that he moved, because the curtains are drawn and the room is mostly dark. A little bit of light creeps in around the curtains and one of the bedside lamps is on; but, otherwise, Ignis is in bed at least. Still scowling at the door, eyes barely visible from inside the bundle he's turned himself into. His eyes raise, briefly to subject Gladio to the glare, before he just tugs the blankets even closer and grumbles a short spell that gets lost in the fabric.

Gladio smiles, a thin smile, and nudges the door closed with his foot as he heads towards the bed. "C'mon, Igs. Sooner you take the meds and put something that resembles food in your system, the sooner you can be up and about again. Already got rid of the other two for the day, so… please?"

There's no real compromise to be made anywhere. Normally, he might have some kind of leverage, something he can use to barter with to encourage Ignis to comply with taking care of himself. Even if it's something as small as Gladio promising he'll eat as soon as Ignis does. He knows that isn't going to work this time, not quite with where he is in the cold. Maybe in a few hours.

He is, at the very least, pleasantly surprised when Ignis slowly, carefully, pushes himself into an upright position. Gladio quickly sets the tray on the end table and moves to help him, gently bracing one arm across his back and letting him use the other as leverage to situate himself. "Easy, Igs… here. Wasn't sure what you wanted, so…" 

He makes a vague gesture, turning the tray so he can reach the medicine. Basic pain killers, stomach medicine. Nothing with a drowsy side-effect, for better or worse. Ignis had definitely been expecting to be up to his eyes on cold medicine if there's no sleep aids present and, sure enough, he immediately takes the two Dayquil tablets, easily popping them into his mouth and downing them with a quick swig from the tea and only a mild grimace as he does. 

A few minutes of silence pass as he organises the remaining medicine—pain killers, nausea medicine, more generalised cold medicine—into piles and makes a small note of the time and what was taken. He's at least feeling well enough to do that much and that's a relief. He lets out a slow sigh after, not bothering to raise his head as he leans back against the fluffed up pillows and headboard.

"...Thank you. And… I apologise for what I said in the kitchen. It was out of line and I shouldn't have—"

"Food, first." Gladio's gentle when he interrupts. Careful when he sets the tray across Ignis' lap, making sure it's stable and steady before he moves to pull a chair up next to him. He wouldn't normally interrupt like that; but, that seemed like a good reason to do so. "We can talk all y'want after you get something in your system. Promise. … Besides, you weren't wrong." He shrugs one shoulder in a half-hearted manner. "Seriously, though… please, eat something."

Now that he's thinking about it, he's trying to remember if Ignis had dinner. If he's had anything in the past few days. Every few meals, he'll pick at his plate, sure; but, Gladio can't really pinpoint a time where he _actually_ ate. So… they almost didn't catch it. Ignis has definitely known he was sick for a while. He's just been handling it on his own. Like he does.

Gladio pulls and releases a slow breath, letting the thoughts turn over a couple more times, watching Ignis closely, until the man finally pushes the tray a short distance away to say he's done for now. It isn't much; but, he did at least make an attempt and he's still sipping from the mug of tea. That, if nothing else, is reassuring and Gladio manages a smile as he moves to relocate the tray.

"Thank you. So… still feel up to talking a bit, Iggy?" A short, affirmative hum. Curious. Gladio nods a little. "If you don't want to answer anything, that's fine… just lemme get through this?"

Another affirmative, more curious than before. A few long minutes of silence before Gladio pulls and releases a slow, deep breath.

"So, you pretty clearly knew you were getting sick. How long have you been stockpiling supplies?"

"Not very long." A rather immediate answer. Not what he was expecting, but a relief none the less. Ignis hums a little as he thinks on it, ticking off on his fingers against his mug as he does. "A week or so—about the time we parted ways with Ms. Highwind. I had not suspected I, specifically, would be the one to fall ill. But I knew one of us would. The ruins were very humid, very damp, and very… well. I'm sure Prompto's shown you some of the things we ran afoul and we all know that undead are rather… tricky, regarding our own health."

Gladio's smile feels a little bit tighter. Yeah. He definitely knows. It was one of the reasons he's more surprised he _hasn't_ fallen ill, himself, yet. The Proving Grounds were crawling with undead and he's… still in tiptop shape.

"And is there a reason you didn't feel the need to alert Noct to this _earlier_? He would have stopped for a few days to make sure everyone was okay." No accusation, no bite. Honestly, it could have just as easily been Noctis—it probably _should_ have been. And he was almost worse about saying anything than Ignis was. A little bit better, because if he didn't, there was going to be Hell to pay if he mis-warped in battle or couldn't focus enough to summon his weapons; but, it was still just as hard to spot the early signs. He already slept a lot, he didn't eat much unless someone constantly put food in front of him; it was easy to miss. Honestly, as much as he hates it, they probably got lucky with the fact Ignis was the one that got sick.

A slightly longer pause before Ignis shrugs one shoulder up in an absent manner. "Things were finally back to normal, I saw no reason to upset that if I was wrong. This is a very recent development. Within the past thirty-six hours, perhaps forty-eight. I've been taking care to moderate preemptive medicine. Everything would have been fine."

"Fine's a stretch." Gladio's voice deadpans a little; but, he still sighs and nods, leaning the short distance to press a quick kiss to Ignis' forehead. Too warm, still. But not as warm as he could be. "Which is why you're going to stay in bed and let me wait on you until you _are_ feeling better. And I don't mean a little better. I mean completely better."

There's probably an argument on the tip of his tongue. The short frown is enough to tell Gladio that much. But, just as quickly Ignis seems to realise he won't win and heaves a slow sigh and begins to work his way back down into the blankets.

"Well, then. I suppose I should be getting as much rest as possible. … That said you probably shouldn't be in the same room as me, unless necessary, until this passes."

At that, Gladio can only offer a small grin and settles back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other and arms crossed against his stomach. "Probably not. But that's never really stopped either of us, has it?"

Not even close. One of them got sick, the other one was never too far. Closer than they should have been, but a steady source of support. Ignis knows it, too, if the way he smiles is any indicator. The tiniest smile and a short roll of his eyes before he manages to settle himself back down in the bed, pillows and blankets pulled close and a slow sigh of a breath escaping as his eyes close.

"I won't be held responsible if you follow suit. Just so you know."

"Mm-hmm. I'll expect all the 'I told you so's that follow, if it happens." Gladio reaches over, setting both of their phones on the table, on silent for safe measure, and flicking the lamp off. "Just get some rest. I'll be here when you wake up."

There's no real need to be this close; just a personal desire to ensure Ignis knows he isn't alone when he wakes up. To make sure he knows that everything really is fine or is close to being fine.

**Author's Note:**

> How does one shot. How does fluff.  
> Anywho. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, I LOVE YOU, I'M SORRY I'M BAD AT FLUFF. Loqi says hi and happy birthday, too, as the little bastard CONTINUES TO HAPPY PAW MY LEG, STAHP;;;;
> 
> Anyhozit <3 Happy birthday~ I'll try to write u better fluff soon-like;;;;  
> ♠  
> If you spot typos or anything that reads strange, please let me know! That said, Kiri is not accepting concrit, unless it's actually something with a constructive base. Please do not repost anywhere ♥  
> ♠  
> You can find a Kiri on tumblr @ kiriosities (main) or road-trip-memories (xv blog)! This will be up on the xv blog later today!


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